Becoming Epic
by KivaJayelle
Summary: Set immediately after Damon's confession to Elena in "Rose" 2x08.  Bonnie overhears and attempts to help him.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Was anyone else as devastated as I was after that doggone confession of his? Rated 'T' for now, but may spill over into 'M' in later chapters, so fair warning.**

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Sitting on the curb out in front of Elena's house, he barely registers the presence of the witch.

"You're bleeding," he greets her with a subdued tone.

"So are you." Bonnie moves to stand in front of him.

He looks quizzically at her.

She returns his gaze and before she can snatch her hand back from what will surely result in a tiger's bite by that ultimate predator, she reaches down, gently touches his face and is transported mentally to that place where she can read the emotions and actions that are churning restlessly within him. Her eyes flutter shut as she experiences his experience. She gasps, eyes clashing with his. She is now full of the knowledge of him, much like Eve after that initial hasty bite of fruit.

Her face crumbles. "Oh, Damon. I'm so sorry for your pain."

Feeling exposed, he tears his gaze away from her eyes. "Yeah," He manages on a broken breath.

Surely thinking that she's been possessed by a spirit lacking the sense to flee from danger, she nudges apart his legs, stepping closer to him. She reaches for him, bringing his head to rest on her abdomen, her urge to comfort his sorrow overcoming her common sense and their shared violent history.

His arms almost immediately encase her legs and lower back, letting her take the weight of him, his grief shuddering through his body.

She pets his hair, rubbing, whispering nonsensical murmurs of comfort, tears sliding down her own cheeks. This communion of grief and support goes on until all the lights in the Gilbert home have been long extinguished for the night.

The shudders eventually cease, the tears stop. He raises his head to look at her in newfound awareness and trepidation. She mirrors his look.

"Just-, let's not fight tonight, okay?" She pleads with him.

He's unable to form a verbal answer, but nods his head.

"Come on. I'll give you a ride home." She bends to try and hoist him up underneath his shoulders.

Despite his emotional state, he's touched and amused that this little 5'2" witch would actually attempt to pick him up. He's also surprised when buffeted by the wind of her power, she uses it to actually lift him, she manages to actually get him into her car.

Having no idea what to do with him, yet not wanting to abandon him for the time being, she gets into her car, guns the motor and heads out into the late evening.

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**Please let me have your thoughts if you'd like to read more.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry this is a day late, folks! Caught a 24-hour virus that was so vile, I had to have my mom come out and baby me for a spell. Many thanks to all of the reviews so far!**

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2.

Damon and Bonnie lumber arm in arm through the shadowed foyer of the manor. Upon entering the library, she deposits him as gently as she is able on a nearby couch.

Dumping her satchel, she moves to the bar and pours him a few fingers of what she assumes is scotch into a crystal-etched highball. Handing it to him, she returns to the bar to pour herself a conservative amount of the same. Turning to face him, she sips tentatively, unused to the bite of the liquor.

She studies the planes of his face as he in turn studied the flames of the fire in the hearth nearby. Noting his empty glass, she takes it from him, returning with the entire bottle. Placing it in his hands, she uncorks the decanter and he continues to drink deeply from the bottle.

Raising her eyes to the room's entrance she notes Stefan ghosting past with a concerned look on his face. He opens his mouth and Bonnie shakes her head in rebuke, cocking her head toward the front of the manor. Casting a glance in Damon's direction, she softly says "I'll be right back." She makes her way outside of the manor, with Stefan hot on her heels.

In a hushed voice, he asks "What's going on?"

Mindful of the vampiric hearing, she whispers, "In the car." She motioned him into her Prius. Starting up the Toyota, she puts some music on. "He's hurting, Stefan."

Blowing out a breath, he says, "Elena."

"Yes." She confirms.

"What's your part in all this?"

"The last time he got really emotionally bent, he 'killed' Jeremy. I'm trying to keep anything like that from happening again."

He looks at her. "What about the danger to yourself?"

She assures him, "I'll be fine. I just need to see him through tonight. I don't think his seeing _you_ is going to help matters, though, so stay scarce, alright?"

Stefan impulsively clasps one of her hands in his. "Thank you, Bonnie. I know that you and Damon don't see eye to eye on much, but I thank you. For my brother."

Looking down at their hands, she responds with a faint, "Okay." Pursing her full lips resolutely, she looks up and confessed, "God help me, Stefan, I feel _sorry_ for him. Despite of all mayhem he's unpacked since he came back to Mystic Falls."

"Just help him and keep the town and yourself safe."

"That's what I'm trying to do. There may be a spell that can help him."

He quirks an assessing eyebrow skyward in a manner eerily similar to his sibling. "A spell? Well, since you've been batting a thousand with your spell-casting these days, I'm going to leave it to you."

She nods absently and then says, "You should probably stay at Elena's tonight. I don't know if he should see her for the time being, either."

He sets his thousand yard stare for some distant point beyond the windshield of her car. "Right."

Shaking her head sadly, she doesn't realize that she's muttered aloud. "All this pain in the name of love. Thank God, I've dodged that bullet."

"What are you saying?" He asks, turning his sharp eyes back to her.

She does a double-take and then grins sheepishly. "Sorry, that was a private thought that got loose." _I must be more tired than I thought._ "I was thinking that there must be some kind of curse on the men who dare to love a Bennett woman. They all seem to die early."

"Oh?"

She meets his eyes. "That's why my mother divorced my father. Not for lack of love, but because she loved him too much and didn't want to deprive me of a dad. I think he both loves and hates her for leaving. He never quite bought into the whole witch lore and goes ballistic whenever any of my relatives brings it up."

"I'm really sorry, Bonnie."

She smiles, disentangling her fingers from his. "Don't be." Lightening her tone, she says impishly, "I'm safe. I'm the sidekick in this entire epic saga being played out here and quite resigned to the fact that I'll never inspire nor have that 'one true love'," she sketches air quotes with her fingers.

Stefan spears her with a look of total disbelief. He turns to face her as fully as the small cabin will allow. Slowly, as if not to startle or provoke her into action, he lifts both hands to cradle her face. His eyes are serious as is his tone. "You listen to me, Bonnie Bennett. Were it not for Elena, you are _exactly _the type of girl that Damon and I would've pursued. He and I would've loved you as you so deserve. So, fair warning: once he's worked out his issues and dealt with his grief, watch out."

A tumult of emotions runs through Bonnie: incredulity, disbelief, sadness all churned by a consuming longing for something she couldn't put a name to. Stefan watches all of these flicker across her features. Feeling a need to drive his point home, he shakes her head gently to emphasize his argument. "You. Are. Epic." Drawing her face to his, he bestows a featherlike kiss to her forehead.

Moving away, their eyes lock and they smile at one another. Bonnie is the first to speak. "You Salvatore men and your damnable forehead kisses should be outlawed," she says with wry humor, breaking up the seriousness of the moment.

He releases her with a chuckle.

Bonnie sobers a bit, looking around. "Listen, I'd better get back in there and make sure he hasn't escaped or started to backstroke in the scotch." She turns down the music, powers off her engine and they step out of the car.

As she makes her way to the door, she turns, giving him a heartfelt smile. "Thank you, Stefan."

Stefan grins. "You're welcome, Bonnie." He shoos her back into the house. "Go. Fix my brother. Be epic."

Taking a deep breath, she repeats on a doubtful sigh against her better judgment, "Epic."

**A/N2: Would love to read your thoughts on this particular interaction!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate each and every one!**

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3.

Bonnie walks up behind Damon, tentatively setting her hands on his shoulders. She can't quite bring herself to look at his face just yet. Spying the bottle she left in his keeping, she sees that it's been emptied. She takes the bottle from his unresisting fingers and places it back on the wet bar. Bending down, and opening the cabinet, she spies a full bottle which looks similar to what he's been drinking, uncaps it and walks over, handing it to him. He accepts the bottle and continues drinking, his eyes reading the fire as if all the secrets of the world are held in its dancing, fickle flames.

Grabbing her bag, she takes a seat beside him on the couch, drawing out her grimoire, hoping to find something to help ease him. After what seems like hours, she spots what she thinks may help him. Studying the simple spell, she figures that all of the ingredients can be found within the manor. Setting off in search of them, she settles another parting hand on his shoulder.

She finds white candles in the utility closet of the kitchen and salt in the cupboard. Heading back to the room where Damon is still sitting, she packs up her grimoire and sets her tools in her shoulder bag. After banking the fire, she removes the near-empty fifth of liquor from his hands, putting it away. Hefting her bag on one shoulder, she turns to him. Using a combination of her arms, legs and a bit of magic, she hoists him up with a grunt of, "Let's go upstairs."

Damon sighs, offering her no hindrance. They manage to make it to the top of the stairs. She looks at his stoic face. "Your room?" He lifts a hand, gesturing to a nearby door. She progresses to it and opens it, fumbles briefly for a light switch, illuminating the room. They lurch towards his bed on the far side of the room. Using one hand, she snatches back a black silken duvet cover, revealing luxurious black sheets. "Only you would sleep on two thousand dollar sheets from Frette, Damon," she says quietly underneath her breath.

Gently setting him and her bag on his bed, she helps him recline. She quickly removes his shoes, putting them under the bed. Standing, she leans over him and makes quick work of unbuckling his belt and removing it. She feels around for his personal effects, divesting him of his keys and wallet, setting them on the oak night table. She lifts his legs, swinging them under the sheets, covering him to his chest.

Taking a breather, she sits down wondering at the business which brings her into Damon's lair. Looking around, she appreciatively notes all the dark, heavy expensive furnishings. Tastefully appointed, yet utterly masculine, she feels ridiculously out of her depth by just being here. _But that's not what I'm here for_, she scolds herself.

Taking up the ingredients and book, she moves to an open space in the center of the room. Bonnie constructs a pentagram with the salt, setting the candles in the middle and lighting them. After writing on a piece of paper, she rolls it up, lights the paper with the fire from the candles and chants her supplication. As the paper is fully consumed, a warm gust of metaphysical wind blows out the fires of the candles and paper.

Taking a deep breath, she turns to look at Damon. He's eyeing her curiously, but then turns his attention back to the ceiling. Bonnie busies herself, dragging a chair from the other side of the room setting it beside the bed. She grabs a paperback from her bag and folds herself into the chair intending to read and keep a vigilant eye on her charge. Damon again looks at her. She can _feel_ his look. He slides a searching hand across the bed towards her in an unspoken plea. Bonnie sets down her book, leans over and clasps his hand in hers, giving his a gentle squeeze. He turns his head back to the ceiling. They remain like this until Damon drifts into unconsciousness and Bonnie slips into a deep sleep.

**A/N:That's a real spell, folks. I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


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